Is this as good as it gets? That I can be substantially content, That I can say that things are fine, But still wait for something, watch the time, That my words on the topic are carefully rehearsed, That I can remember when it was worse, And compare it for a second (only a second), And keep my thoughts on the matter off the record, I’m ashamed of this, of superficial things I desire, They stack up together like a funeral pyre, And I watch them burn because reality is cruel, And everything’s ugly sometimes, often everyone’s a fool, And I’m sorry if I come across distant or cold, But the emotion is too complex to explain in the way a plate is too hot to hold, I think I’m sick and maybe I need some meds, Or maybe I’m OK and I just need to eat right and go to bed, I’m tired and I’m angry and I’m scared and I’m sick of being lonely, And all I have is this stale notion to hold me, What if sunrise never comes? What if I will always want more? What if I’m destined to make like a drunkard passed out on the floor? Don’t mind what I’m saying, I’ll block it out I guess, And I feel selfish asking but...is this as good as it gets?

Select a previous page...

Note: Keep in mind that the From: field of the email message sent by this form will contain your email address,
and will therefore be available to the recipient. If you're not comfortable with this, please
close this window.